Wheels of Change
A smouldering... a charcoal fire that heats great iron hoops for tires to ring the wheelwright's oaken spokes on circled pine, for working folks to move with freedom — their desire.
Their taxing load, it seems, inspires new ways of commerce and requires a new restraint, a gentler yoke — a smoldering.
Wheels turn. Some gentry now admire their revolution, yet the ire of governance will steep, provoke still more rebellion as he soaks them... takes a powder... leaves his pyre a-smolderin'.
© MLee Dickens'son 18 July 2006
at the wheelwright’s shop in Williamsburg, VA near the Colonial Governor’s Palace.
Original
A smoldering, a charcoal fire that heats great iron hoops for tires to ring the wheelwright's oaken spokes on circled pine, for working folks to move with freedom — their desire.
Their taxing load, it seems, inspires new ways of commerce and requires a new restraint, a gentler yoke — a smoldering.
Wheels turn. Some gentry now admire their revolution, yet the ire of governance would soon invoke new fear, tea-off his subjects, soak them, take a powder, leave his pyre a-smoldering.
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